


half become whole

by haipollai



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Meet the Family, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-05
Updated: 2016-05-05
Packaged: 2018-06-06 11:05:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6751474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haipollai/pseuds/haipollai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jeff shifts nervously from foot to foot, he knows this is silly. It's just Mike. It's just Mike after therapy and a year of the Monarchs and legal trouble and the Caps and Jeff not able to be there for him like he should have been. </p><p>He sucks in a breath and rings the doorbell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	half become whole

Jeff shifts nervously from foot to foot, he knows this is silly. It's just Mike. It's just Mike after therapy and a year of the Monarchs and legal trouble and the Caps and Jeff not able to be there for him like he should have been. 

He sucks in a breath and rings the doorbell. 

There's the sound of feet on wooden floors, racing to the door and he instinctively takes a step back as the door flings wide open. It's a two year old being chased down by Michael Latta. 

“Hi!” The girl beams. “Do you have pizza?”

“Lyla, go back and find Uncle Richie, K?” Latta says, trying to nudge her away. Having a mission though sends the girl bounding off. “Carter,” Latta says, folding his arms over his chest like a bouncer. 

He arches his eyebrows, taken aback by the glare he's being fixed with. “Can I… come in?” It's Richie’s place, he can't even believe he's asking this kid to be allowed into his boyfriend's house. 

“Dunno. Why are you here?”

“Jeff!” Mike calls out from behind Latta. “You really made it.” He shoves Latta gently to the side and pulls Jeff into a tight hug. His breath is hot against Jeff’s neck where his scarf got nudged down. “Wasn't sure…”

Jeff wants to run his fingers through Mike’s hair and kiss him but he's still very aware of Latta watching them. “So the kid,” he mumbles, not letting go yet. 

Mike chuckles and to Jeff’s disappointment steps back, but his arm stays around his waist at least. “Jeff, this is Latts. Latts stop being a dick.”

“Hey!” There’s a hint of a pout on his lips, but Jeff isn’t paying much attention to him. Mike is leaning slightly into him and his eyes crinkle at the corners from his smile. His hair is too long, the messy curls falling soft over his forehead. “I’m just making sure no-”

“Can we go inside?” Mike interrupts. Latts is definitely pouting but scrambles out of the way. Unfortunately it means Mike’s arm drops so they can get through the door, but his fingers immediately wrap around Jeff’s gloved ones. “I know it’s late, but there’s cake too. If you don’t want anyone singing happy birthday to you…” He starts stripping Jeff out of his coat without warning. 

“Mike.” He grabs Mike’s wrist as he goes to hang the coat up and waits until he turns to look at him. His initial joy has faded into anxious worry, Jeff can see it in his eyes. “It’s really good to see you again,” he says quietly.

It’s the right thing to say, Mike’s smile starts to come back. He yanks his arm free and continues putting the coat away, just less frantically now. “Please tell me you brought something other than what you’re wearing,” he says.

“Nah, figured I was here to lounge around naked for you.”

Mike gives him a really cheesy smirk. “Didn’t know you needed an _excuse_.” 

Jeff rolls his eyes, if he says anything else he’ll be spending the rest of what will probably be a very awkward dinner to begin with a half hard dick. “The rest of my stuff is in the rental. Deal with it later. Come on, give me the grand tour Richie.” He throws his arm around Mike’s shoulders, mostly as an excuse to feel his body pressed against Jeff’s without any thick fabric in the way.

When Jeff had realized the King’s schedule gave him a few days break, he had immediately called Mike, needing to see him again. It had been a week ago someone on the Caps had found out about Jeff’s visit and apparently decided they had to have a welcoming dinner for him.

At least Mike seems about as nervous about the entire thing as he does. He leads Jeff into the living room which seems too smile with the handful of hockey players fit inside. He recognizes everyone there, but almost entirely from playing against them. Their conversation all stops when Jeff and Mike enter. 

Jeff recognizes all of them, Ovechkin, Backstrom, Wilson, Oshie, Chimera and Justin Williams. Justin grins and waves at him from across the room. A black lab is much less contained and runs across the maze of people to greet him.

He shoots Mike a confused look, because he knows Arnold is up with his parents.

“Blake,” Ovechkin says, hoping off the coffee table where he had been demonstrating something. “Richie always insist I bring him with.”

Jeff gives Mike another look, this time soft. Mike rolls his eyes at him. “He's a beautiful dog,” Jeff says to Ovechkin. 

“One day, he and Arnold will get to meet,” Ovechkin pokes at Mike's side, giving the feeling they've talked about this before, planned on Mike being here long enough to feel like bringing Arnold. 

“They’d make good friends,” is what Jeff says out loud. He and Mike are ushered onto a couch, Jeff resting his arm over Mike’s shoulders without even thinking about it. Backstrom is on the couch as well, calmly sipping a beer with a small amused smile.

He nudges his knee against Mike’s. “Steam is still glaring.”

Jeff glances over and notices that Backstrom’s right. He’s standing in the entrance to the living room, still shooting him dirty looks. “What did I do?” he whispers.

“Nothing,” Backstrom says but his grin widens. “Cursed by association.”

Jeff looks down at Mike who sighs and pats his thigh. “Don’t worry about it.” Jeff gives him a look that says he’s going to ask later, Mike can’t get away with brushing aside his worries anymore. They both know that’s the only way this between them will still work.

With them out of the spotlight, or maybe being purposefully ignored to let them relax, the conversation continues, back to whatever Ovi had been showing off on the table before. Jeff isn’t paying much attention since Justin’s slipped around to sit on the couch’s armrest next to him. “Got something for you,” he says softly.

“If it’s a dildo again I’m sending it to your wife,” Jeff answers in the same tone.

“One little prank,” he nudges him with an elbow. “Come on Cartsy, you’re telling me it _never_ got used?”

“Didn’t say that,” Mike cuts in absently, glancing over from the main conversation with a smirk before before going back to it.

Justin’s face is twisted up like he just ate a lemon. “You know what. I don’t actually want to know.”

He laughs, completely unsympathetic. “So what do you have Justin?”

“Kitchen, let’s get a drink.” He goes before Jeff can think about it. 

“Be back in a second,” he murmurs in Mike’s ear, giving his shoulder a quick squeeze as he gets up to follow. He pauses for a split second, still caught off guard by how good Mike looks. He’s relaxed. That awful secret no longer weighing him down. He makes himself continue walking until anyone starts to wonder what kind of creep he is.

Justin has already pulled out two beers from the fridge and hands them over to Jeff with a bottle opener. While he gets them open, Justin digs something out of his pocket. It’s small, barely bigger than a quarter and he presses it into Jeff’s palm. “Look, this should be coming from that moron, and it sort of is. He asked me do this cause he got nervous.” He takes a step back and watches as Jeff lifts up the coin to see what’s on it.

It’s not a coin at all, it’s a chip with ‘30 Days’ emblazoned on it in a big font that takes up most of the face. “It’s…” He swipes his thumb over the Narcotics Anonymous printed on the top. “It’s Mike’s?” As if anyone else’s would be handed to him.

Justin gives him a small, proud smile. “Yea. It’s his.”

Jeff feels the tears well and blinks his eyes hard to keep them back. It had been hard trying to help Mike when there’s constantly been so much space between them. Jeff had fucked up at first too, letting himself get angry with Mike over hiding what was happening. They had spent too much of that time arguing. He closes his fist tightly around the chip, feeling the edges dig into his palm.

“I know you really fucking miss him,” Justin continues after a moment, giving Jeff time to collect himself. “But wanted to make sure you knew how well he’s doing right now. I doubt he’s said as much.”

Jeff shakes his head. Mike hadn’t, but Jeff had seen it, and heard it in his voice. It’s not like before when Mike was sent down, waiting desperately for the call back up to the Kings. He could belong here, not feel like a rejected broken toy. He puts the chip into his pocket. “Thank you.”

“Of course, man.” Justin pats his shoulder. They’re interrupted by Blake charging into the kitchen, with everyone else trailing in after. “Come, come,” Ovechkin beckons. “Dinner.” 

Mike stops, waiting for Jeff and pressing against his side. “Justin isn’t allowed to sneak off with you again. Here to see me.”

He bites his tongue before he does something stupid like spurt out right here what he and Justin were talking about. It’s not the time or place and he doesn’t want to do anything to make Mike stop smiling. “You’re a brat.”

“Fuck you.”

Two seats have been left open next to each other at the dining room table. The little girl is there with two other kids, set up a small kids table in the corner. Under the table, Mike grabs Jeff’s hand and gives it a warm squeeze. There’s a lot of food on the table and everyone is immediately grabbing for it, passing plates around. It all has an air of familiarity, like they’ve done this thing plenty of times.

Latta has finally stopped glaring at him, so Jeff takes the chance to look around. Jeff knows Mike is just renting the place, he’s cautious now, edgy at the idea of falling too in love with a place. The place has still come to feel a lot like _Mike’s_ though. Jeff recognizes the lake in Kenora in a photograph on one wall. Another photo, cropped to look artsy, was taken from Jeff’s porch in Jersey.

“Better not be judging my taste, Carts,” Mike says, following his gaze to the photos. “I’ve seen your designer skills.” He gives Carter a triumphant look as he takes a bite of his steak.

“Low blow, man.” He reaches over to Mike’s plate to steal a forkful of potatoes. Mike makes an offended sound and hurriedly shallows so he can steal some of Jeff's food. “It was a really good idea at the time.”

“You were drunk at the time.”

He shrugs and steals another bite of potatoes because Mike is leaning against him and smiling and everyone is just letting them...be close. Chimera leans over and starts pestering for the story of Jeff’s decorating mishaps and Mike gives Jeff a wicked grin as he starts recounting how Jeff decided to hang a giant Canadian flag from his Jersey home. Over the laughter and teasing, Jeff insists he stands by his choice.

Backstrom chimes in with a playful smack at Ovechkin. “You did the same.” Everyone swings over to hear Alex tell quite proudly about how he flew a Russian flag over his house once. Nicky nudges him again, and prompts him to tell the _other_ story which after a long staring contest, Ovi grudgingly shares.

Across the table, Nicky’s eyes meet his and he gives Jeff a tiny nod.

“Mm, Nicky likes you,” Mike hums in his ear. Jeff jumps, not sure when Mike leaned in so close. He rests his chin on Jeff’s shoulder.

“Good thing?”

“If he didn’t, Latta might try to break your jaw when we play against you.”

Jeff’s stomach immediately drops, for a little bit he’d almost forgotten. When the Kings play the Caps, he could be facing off against Mike. He probably would be. They haven’t played against each other since they were eighteen and had been drafted by the Flyers. 

He resolutely pushes the feeling back and tries to refocus on the conversation. Chimera gets up first, scooping up two of the kids starting to droop off in the corner. “Think it’s time for me to get these two back.” Oshie follows, picking up the girl who had first greeted Jeff. There’s a long silence after they’ve said their goodbyes and the door has closed behind them. Jeff wonders if it would be rude to ask the rest to get out too so he can just be with Mike.

Ovechkin moves first, rapping his knuckles on the table. “Dishes,” he declares, looking pointedly at Latta and Wilson. They grumble a little but get to start clearing the table. 

Jeff feels like he’s facing down Mike’s parents again, or perhaps some lawyers. “Hopefully, no one has scared you off,” Nicky says.

“Nah, it’s been good to see everyone here looking out for Richie,” he says. Mike huffs at the very idea of needing to be looked after but blushes bright red. Jeff reaches out, maybe a little desperate to hold onto him. “I know how hard he makes it.”

“If you start fucking crying Carts,” Mike says, trying to sound threatening and grumpy but Jeff knows him too well. 

“Knew you didn’t care about my feelings,” he shoots back, sniffling dramatically. He doesn't expect Mike’s face to go through about twenty emotions before he seems to remind himself it was a joke. Jeff stares at him, forgetting about his fake tears. 

Jeff pushes it aside, Mike will only get pissed at him if he mentions it now. 

Alex comes around the table to lean over Jeff's chair. He stares up, at a suddenly very serious Alex Ovechkin.

And then Alex has his hands on Jeff's cheeks, smushing his face like a grandmother would. There's a sudden burst of noise around them, Williams laughing and Nicky’s exasperated groan. From the kitchen he can hear one of the kids yell, asking if Alex was breaking something.

Mike is holding his hand but otherwise doesn't move or say a thing and Jeff isn't sure he wants to risk a broken neck to try and look at him. 

“We like your Richie,” Ovi says solemnly. “We make sure he ok, ok?”

“Come on Sasha,” Backstrom’s got up and come over. “If Mike fills your shoes with shaving cream at practice tomorrow it's your own fault.”

Ovi let's go but doesn't move away, clearly sure his point hasn't been made. Jeff looks at Mike, who is staring down at the table. “Hey, Mikey?” He tries to smile, trying to hide how serious a question he's trying to ask. 

“Um yea. Wasn't quiet enough on the phone or something.” He runs his hand through his hair. “I was gonna tell you-”

“It's ok,” he looks back over to the others. “Right?”

Ovi grins like Jeff just issued him a challenge and twists around to Backstrom. He grabs a hold of his shirt and Nicky goes down to him easily, one hand curling around Ovechkin’s neck as they kissed. 

“Oh,” he breathes. 

Someone, Wilson, wolf whistles from the door.

“OK everyone,” Mike says, pushing away from the table. “Get out, go home. No one gets to make out in here on my furniture but me.” Jeff gets up to gather some last things left on the table to bring into the kitchen. Latta is in there as well, rinsing off his hands. 

“Listen, Carter,” Latta says quickly. “I was a jerk. Before. I'm sorry.”

Jeff nods, the kid isn't exactly happy about having to apologize but he's trying and Jeff appreciates that. “No hard feelings.”

Latta nods sharply. “Cool, cool. He’s been really great here and he's really helped me a lot even just over a few weeks so you know I just… “ He shrugs, his initial hostility fading. 

“I get that. He's fucking awful at looking out for himself so it's good. He needs that.” He smiles tightly. “I know that it can’t just be me when I’m thousands of miles away. But you guys. You’re all really good for him.”

Latta turns bright red and looks inordinately pleased even as he tries to hide it. “He’s uh he’s kinda my- I tried to learn how to play like him. As a kid.”

Jeff feels his smile grow wider as Latta stumbles through the confession. That explains a lot about the kid’s behavior. He decides to try and soothe things over instead of taking the chance to tease. “I get it. I still look up to him.”

Someone starts yelling for Mike from the front door, so whatever bonding moment they were having is cut short and Jeff follows Latta out, waiting to the side as Mike wishes everyone goodnight. With everyone suddenly gone, the house seems to echo with the silence. Mike leans back against the door, watching him. 

“So you’re here,” he finally says.

“I am. I should have been here sooner.”

Mike shrugs. “Don’t need you glued to my side. It’s ok.”

Jeff frowns, deciding he’s sick of this distance, of Mike trying to pull this shit again. He closes the distance and braces his hands on either side of Mike. He knows Mike hates feeling trapped, he hates even more when Jeff looms over him. “How many times do I need to tell you I don’t care? I’m here for you and all the bullshit.”

There’s a hitch in Mike’s breathing. “I heard. You talking to Latts.”

“He’s a good kid.” He doesn’t say anything else, waits until Mike opens up.

“It feels good you know? Having someone look up to me like that again.” Jeff sighs softly and rests his head on Mike’s shoulder. “Hey. Don’t do that.” MIke gets a handful of his hair to yank his head back and kisses him. “God Jeff,” he mumbles. “it's hockey and you. That's my fucking life.” He sucks in a breath. “You mean it? About um looking up to me?”

“Fuck yes of course.”

Mike's arms come up and wrap around him. “You're a fucking idiot.” He buries his nose in Jeff's hair. 

“Mhm.” He nuzzles at the spot under Mike's ear. He's feeling the drain of the long day and the flight now and he’s missed Mike so much his chest aches. Mike’s warm and familiar, it could be as if no time has passed at all.

Mike laughs softly. “I know that sound. That's tired Jeff. Come on.” He pushes Jeff away but doesn't protest when Jeff immediately wraps his arm around Mike's shoulders and leans into him as Mike leads the way up to the bedroom. 

“They love you a lot,” Jeff says as he flops into bed, stretching out lazily. He manages to kick off his shoes at the very least.

“Don't know about that, still the new guy.” He doesn't point out the crap that even sent him to Washington so Jeff takes it as a win. 

He still rolls onto his side to watch Mike stripping down to his briefs for sleep. “They do Mike. It's really good.” Mike frowns slightly as he comes over to bed, pushing on Jeff until he rolls onto his back again and Mike can straddle his hips. His fingers work methodically on the buttons of Jeff’s shirt.

“You think so?” He asks quietly, almost painfully curious. 

Jeff reaches up to tug him down, smiling as Mike’s lips find his. “Thought they were gonna ask me what my intentions with you were.”

“As long as they involve your hand on my dick, I’m fine with it.” He nips at Jeff’s neck before sucking a mark into the skin there, drawing a low groan from Jeff.

“Not fair,” he groans before shifting his weight to roll Mike onto his back and pin him to the bed. “If you want sex now, you’re doing all the work.”

Mike’s chest shakes with his laughter. “I’ll wait. Demand a kiss though.”

Jeff shifts up, brushing the overgrown curls from Mike’s forehead before dipping down for the kiss. Mike sighs softly, letting Jeff have complete control for this brief moment where no one else can reach them. His lips part at the slightly brush of Jeff’s tongue, inviting Jeff in. Reluctantly Jeff pulls back before he yawns into the kiss.

Mike’s eyes are closed, and he doesn’t make a move as Jeff shifts up and away to get out of his pants and shirt before curling back up against him. He tucks his head under Mike’s chin. It lasts about two seconds before Mike pushes him and rearranges him to be the big spoon. Jeff can’t find it in him to complain.

-

Jeff comes downstairs the next morning to find Mike already busy with the coffee pot.

“Bag,” Mike says as greeting, nodding towards the entrance. Jeff grimaces at it, not sure he wants to know how cold his clothes now are from sitting in the car overnight. Mike gets his attention back, pressing up against his side. His messy curls tickle at Jeff's neck and chin, it's so painfully familiar. Like they're just back together in LA, no trades or waivers or drugs.

He tilts Mike’s head back with a gentle touch to his chin and kisses him, chasing the taste of coffee on Mike’s lips and tongue. 

It could be like back in LA, but it's not. Mike pulls back with a pleased hum. He looks so content, and if Jeff is honest with himself, healthier than he has in months. “I'm sorry,” he blurts out. 

“Stop saying that.” Mike's lips press into a thin line. “I don't blame you.”

They've done this dance countless times now but never face to face. “I was feeling good and it fucking- “

“Don't,” Mike sighs, pressing his fingers against his temples. It was such a common gesture when he had the concussion that Jeff shuts up out of habit. “Seeing things work for you- it was the best thing I had, ok? I thought maybe if I had to retire, at least I could live it all still through you.” It's more words from Mike on his feelings then Jeff has heard since he went on a drunken rant after Jeff had broken his foot in Columbus. 

For a second all he can do is stare slackjawed, trying to process what he's been told. It's no surprise Mike has thought through the worst outcomes, that's what Mike does but to sound so sure of it makes Jeff's gut twist. “You're supposed to tell me this shit.”

It's not the most supportive thing but it gets Mike to crack a small smile. “Am now.” Jeff stares at him until Mike rolls his eyes and gives him a light shove. “And promise to do so from now on.”

Jeff hates this. He can see all the tension like this without any pixelation or fuzziness of a webcam. They don’t need to say a word, they know exactly how to read each other and it’s worse than any stuttered statement made over a phone call. “Thank you,” he says quietly. Part of him wants to take the entire conversation back, but this all needs to finally be settled. “Gonna look after you, it’s part of that being in love crap.”

Mike gives him another shove. “Fuck you,” he says with no vehemence. “I have to - I’m gonna fix my shit, Cartsy. You gotta trust me, ok?”

“I’ve always fucking trusted you.” He grabs Mike’s wrist and tugs him back in. It’s Jeff’s biggest weakness, he’s always been lost for Mike. “Keep me in the loop this time, eh?”

“Alright fine.” His lips brush against Jeff’s collarbone. It’s sort of a promise, Jeff recognizes the tone of voice Mike uses when he’s being solemn. They’ve made a lot of promises to each other over the years though and broken a lot of them so Jeff knows this isn’t that simple. It wouldn’t be them if it was. His head comes to rest on Jeff’s shoulder, everything fading and settling between them. “I have practice today,” Mike finally mumbles.

“Take a maintenance day.”

“That’s tomorrow.” He nuzzles against Jeff’s neck which is entirely unfair if he really is about to leave. “When I get back, want that sex you owe me.”

He grins and runs his hand down Mike’s side to the curve of his ass. “You want me here ready for you? Naked in bed, stretched open-"

“ _Fuck_ Jeff.” There’s a moment, where he thinks Mike might shove him against the counter and fuck him right there but instead Mike takes a step back, his hands in tight fists at his side. Jeff leans back, knowing what he looks like even with his teeth out. “I’m going to practice,” Mike says stiffly, as if he’s trying to convince himself as much as Jeff. His tongue pokes out over his lower lip. “And I fucking do want you like that.”

Jeff bites back a moan. His teasing as slightly backfired on him. Figures Mike’s love of control would make him jump on the chance to know he has Jeff back home, his fingers in his ass, waiting for him to get home. “Then I’ll do it, but you have to go to practice.”

Mike catches him off guard by pulling him down for a harsh kiss, biting at Jeff’s lips and thrusting his tongue into Jeff’s mouth. It’s over almost as soon as it begins, leaving Jeff off balance and breathing hard. “Gotta get dressed.” Mike smirks and leaves him there like that, heading upstairs without a look back.

He groans and stumbles over to get some coffee. It feels like a day he’s going to need it. Mike’s feet come stomping back downstairs and Jeff half turns to look at him.

“Hey. Jeff.” His fingers drum against his thighs nervously. “I’m happy you’re here. Missed you.”

Jeff smiles wide at him, feeling happiness settle in his limbs at just the slight admission from Mike. He knows it's fucked up, to be so pleased at such a tiny statement but it's how they work. “Me too.”

Mike blushes and shrugs. “I'll see you later.”

“Yea, get out of here.”


End file.
